Of Love and Fate
by XiaoZhen
Summary: After the death of his mate, Astoria, Draco (Veela) is left with a predicament whether to follow her to the afterlife or live a half-life and raise his newborn son. In the fit of it all comes Hermione Granger. Follow Draco's journey as he learns that one's true love doesn't have to be one's fated mate.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The rights belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera. No profit is being made from this work.**

**Many thanks to my beta reader, Swirlsofblack on H&V.**

* * *

White.

Everything was white as far as his eyes could see. He looked left and right but there was only nothingness that stretched to no end. The echo sound of his foot followed every step he took.

"Astoria!" he called out. The sound of his voice answering him was the only thing he heard before everything went quiet again.

With a sigh Draco continued his journey in the plain white space with only the sound of his footsteps for company.

He was pretty sure that he was in the physic plane where he and Astoria usually met when they held their mental connection. Though it was different compared to what it usually looked like. Normally, the physic plane resembled the garden in their home or their Master suite and occasionally the garden in Greengrass Manor. And usually he and Astoria would be there together no matter who initiated the connection.

As Draco walked aimlessly around, he thought back on what had happened during the week and the whirlwind of events leading him here.

The week before, he had become a father. The thought of his son, Scorpius, brought a small smile to his face. It was a wonder how much love he had for someone he had never met before. He had vowed the moment he held Scorpius in his arms that he would protect and love him unconditionally. And though everything was great with his son, the same thing could not be said for Astoria.

Draco sighed once more as he thought of his wife.

As his Veela mate, Astoria was assured that she could manage to have children, since the main purpose for a Veela to have a mate was to procreate. Sadly, the inbreeding that has been going on for centuries in the pure-blood community had finally taken its toll. It had resulted in infertility for the Greengrass family, something that Daphne was currently experiencing. If it weren't for Draco and his Veela heritage that ensured conception, Astoria would never have been able to have children. And even so, it still took a while for her to conceive compared to other Veela mates that usually conceived within the first try.

Her pregnancy was one of the hardest times Draco ever had to go through. The healers had warned them of the complications that might follow, along with possible death for both mother and child. They had suggested terminating the foetus, but Astoria had refused. As the pregnancy progressed, her health deteriorated and she spent most of her days in bed.

Though he often felt that he wasn't ready to be a father, he could not hide the excitement of holding his own child in his arms. His Veela instinct yearned for a child, but he was torn as he thought of what might happen to Astoria.

Even though it was his Veela instinct that chose her as a mate, Draco had grown to genuinely love Astoria. She brought light to his dark life and she loved him when no one else even spared him a glance. He also knew (because of his extensive research) that if Astoria passed he would most likely follow her as he did not know if he could continue living a half-life filled with longing for her.

Healers had told him to prepare for the worst as soon as Astoria went to labour. There was some complication with the delivery and they did not know whether she would make it or not. Draco had prayed and hoped that everything would turn out for the better. And everything had seemed all right the moment Scorpius was born.

He was loud, wailing for his mummy and Astoria had managed to hold him and calm him down. She even managed to nurse him for just a few minutes, something that the healers almost forbid her to do due to her sensitive condition.

Everything looked great and everyone had thought that they had gotten through the worst. That was until four days later when Astoria's health deteriorated and she fell into a coma.

Draco had spent day and night by her bedside, holding her hand while trying to contact her through their mental connection, hoping he could pull her through her comatose state with his support. This had led him to where he was now: in the physic plane looking for her.

Draco continued his search. He didn't know how long it had been, but he would not rest until he found her. This could be the last chance he had to save her.

"Astoria!" he called once more. Again, only the echo of his voice replied. And thus Draco continued walking aimlessly while shouting her name, hoping she would appear before him.

It seemed like hours before he heard something other than his own voice.

"Draco?" a soft voice called.

He could feel his heartbeat start to race, just as it had ever since he knew her identity as his mate. Draco slowly turned and there she was before him, clad in a pure white robe, making her look as regal and elegant as the day she turned into a Malfoy bride.

"Astoria," Draco breathed softly, a smile on his face. He rarely smiled, but in the physic plane his emotions and affection were bare.

In a split second he marched over and enveloped her in a fierce hug, afraid she might disappear if he let go. Closing his eyes, Draco tried savouring the warmth of her body and tried to inhale the fruity orange smell that was her own. But none of those things were there. Her body was cold and there was no orange scent wafting through his nose. Draco stiffened as he came to the realisation that he could no longer feel her heartbeat that always beat in the same pace as his.

"Draco?" Astoria said softly, looking up at him as she felt him stiffen.

Draco slowly lowered his head and looked into the deep chocolate eyes of his wife, his fingers slowly brushing the smooth dark hair that was cascading down her back. His other hand remained on her waist, feeling the soft curve of her body beneath her dress robe. As he looked deep into her soul, he knew that this was Astoria, regardless of the fact that he could not sense her heartbeat, or smell her scent, or feel her warmth. And with that he smiled.

"Where are we?" he asked suddenly, looking around the empty space.

"We're in between," Astoria answered softly.

"In between?"

Astoria smiled sadly before slowly turning away from him.

"This is where souls go before they leave for the afterlife. It's not supposed to look like this, but with our mental connection and you being here, I guess it's changed."

"Afterlife?!" Draco's eyes went wide as he heard the words coming from her lips. Surely, she didn't mean that, did she?

"My time has come, Draco. I have to leave," she whispered softly before turning back to him, her eyes glistening with tears.

Before he even realised what was happening, tears were streaming down his face. He could feel his heart break into small pieces. Once more he hugged her, this time tighter than before, afraid that if he let go for just a second she would vanish.

"You can't leave!"

Astoria remained silent as she buried her face in his chest. He could feel wetness leaking through his shirt as she held him.

"What about Scorpius? He needs you," Draco said.

Astoria let go and looked into his silver eyes, tear stains on her cheeks.

"_I_ need you," he added softly, causing a sad smile to emerge on her face.

"Love him. Take care of him for me," she replied as she put a hand on his cheek, trying to dry the tears that kept streaming down his face.

Draco stayed silent as he continued to stare into her face; the black line that framed her iris; the shine in her eyes that made them similar to the colour of the finest Belgian chocolate; the blush on her cheek; the paleness of her skin that matched his own; her rosy thin lips that he always kissed every night – he made sure every feature was permanently stored in his brain.

"I love you, Draco," she whispered softly.

"I love you too, Astoria."

And at that moment, Draco knew that it would be the last time he could say those words to her directly, the last time he would able to see her eyes shine with life, the last time he could feel her body pressed against his, and the last time he could ever taste her. With that, he closed his eyes and kissed her.

* * *

The next time Draco opened his eyes, he was back in Astoria's private chamber in Malfoy Manor. This was where she had given birth to their son, as pure-blood tradition dictated.

There was a soft breeze coming from the veranda. The pale blue curtain was moving softly and sunlight filled the room with warmth.

Draco sat beside the four-poster bed, with his wife lying solemnly before him. Gone was the elegant smile on her face, having been replaced by a serene look. Her lips were no longer pink, the blush on her cheeks gone - only blue lips and ghostly pale skin was left. The fingers that interlaced with his had stopped moving three days ago, but this time it was different.

There was no warmth to her skin. But what was worse: no heartbeat.

His vision started to blur and tears started streaming down his face. His wife, his mate, was gone. Though he had known this was coming, the revelation that Astoria had died knocked the air out of his lungs. He could almost feel his heart breaking into pieces, his soul torn as its mate was lost, never to return again.

As he closed his eyes, reminiscing his late wife, he did not notice the pain that started to emerge from his shoulders, or the itchiness coming from his fingertips.

His fingernails grew longer, the colour turning from translucent to dull black. His back ached as two large bumps started to emerge. His gums began to tingle as his fangs grew longer and sharper. But Draco did not pay this any heed as he could only feel the heartbreak of losing his mate.

Before long, his shirt was torn as the lumps on his back grew larger and formed wings. The skin was covered with grey feathers, the same colour as his eyes, overlapping one on top of the other. His immaculate nails changed into sharp talons that could shred steel with one swipe. His fangs grew over his mouth, so sharp that blood started to trickle as they scraped his lips. As he opened his eyes, the only colour remained was the colour of midnight. There was no silver irises, no white in his eyes, only blackness.

The moment he opened his eyes and looked at his lifeless mate lying before him, his Veela instinct took over.

Draco opened his mouth and let out a deep cry. Instead of his usual human voice, the sound that came out was a cross between a deep wail, a screech and a feral cry. The sound was piercing to human ears and almost deafening.

He slowly picked up Astoria from the bed, ever so gently so that his sharp talons did not do any damage to her smooth skin. He lowered his face to where her neck met her shoulder and inhaled deeply any scent of her that was still there. Once done, he hugged her close to his chest, just on top his beating heart, and let out a long feral wail, a sad song about the Veela who lost his mate.

Draco did not stop, even as sparks started to ignite from his fingertips. As he continued his cry for his mate, his wings stretched almost as if he was ready to take flight. The sparks from his fingertips grew stronger, and before he noticed it, the curtains that hung on the poster bed caught on fire.

It did not take long before the whole room began to heat up and for the flames to travel throughout the room, setting everything in their vicinity on fire. But Draco did not care as he continued his cry. The heat and blazing fire fell in comparison as how his heart shattered over the loss of his mate. The only thing that mattered for him now was to follow his mate so that he would never feel emptiness in his heart ever again.

As he let out a final wail, ready to end it all, and to be joined once more with Astoria, everything went black. The last thing he saw was the ring of fire surrounding him, ready to consume him and her in his arms.

* * *

He felt hollow.

That was the first thing that registered in Draco's brain. He noticed a feeling of emptiness rousing through his body, as if there was a piece of him that was missing.

He was about to ponder more on this feeling he was experiencing when the soft sound of fabric rustling distracted him. This was followed by a dip on whatever he was lying on and a warm hand was placed on forehead.

"Draco," a voice called softly.

Draco was silent, wondering who was talking to him. It was a familiar voice, but he just could not place whom it belonged to, though he was sure he had heard it countless times. Perhaps if he did not feel so disoriented, he would have known the second he heard it.

"Draco dear, are you awake?"

_Mother_, he thought. Only she used that endearment for him. Not even his wife called him that. Where was she anyway? Shouldn't she be calling for him instead of his mother?

As he thought about his wife, he could feel the emptiness inside him looming through, followed by an ache on his chest. He could feel a headache coming on.

"Urgh," he groaned.

He was about to move his hand to massage his forehead but found himself unable to. He felt so weak, not even his fingers managed to move. He further noticed the dull ache across his body, from his fingertips, to his palm, up to his back. Even his teeth felt uncomfortable.

"Come on, Draco, wake up," his mother encouraged softly.

With great effort, Draco's eyelids began to flutter. Before long, he opened his eyes to see his mother hovering above him. Her blue eyes were looking at him and her face was filled with concern.

"Narcissa, give the boy some space," a deep voice said.

Draco slowly turned his head to see his father standing beside his bed, supported by his walking stick; he too had a concern look on his face, though only a hint of it. His mother slowly moved away from him, not wanting to overwhelm him after the debacle he had been through.

He opened his mouth, about to ask what had happened, but only a hoarse sound came out. His mother moved quickly. Conjuring a glass of water, she tilted his head slightly to allow him to drink. Once done, she placed the glass on the bedside table, and waited for what Draco was about to say.

"What happened?"

Narcissa did not answer immediately. Instead she looked over her shoulder at Lucius. The two shared a look before turning back to their son.

"You went full Veela," his mother started.

"Feral, I may add. Your instinct completely took over," his father said.

His mother nodded at him, confirming what Lucius had said. "One of the healers was going to check up on Astoria and saw the whole room on fire. He almost fainted at the sight. Luckily he didn't, and was quick enough to alert us. We managed to put out the fire that had spread throughout the room. It's a good thing that the protective wards in the manor managed to contain the fire to that room. Your father had to stun you multiple times before you finally fell unconscious. We were a bit worried when you didn't wake up as the sun set, but since he did stun you multiple times, I guess we should have seen it coming."

"How long was I unconscious?" Draco asked as he slowly raised his hand to rub his eyes.

"It's almost midnight now, so around 12 hours," she answered as she softly caressed his face, glad that he was awake.

"I feel like I've been run over by a train," he groaned.

"Be glad that you're still alive," Lucius remarked.

Draco chose to remain quiet, not having the energy to reply with a sarcastic remark. As he thought over what his parents had told him, one thing that he noted was that they hadn't mentioned Astoria once. And speaking of which, where was she?

"Do you know where Astoria is? I miss her," he asked.

Once more his parents stayed silent instead of answering immediately. They looked at each other, concern on both their faces, before finally turning back at him.

"Draco, don't you remember anything that happened?" Narcissa asked softly, afraid that she might shock him to full Veela mode.

Draco frowned. His eyebrows drew in together in concentration, trying to remember what happened. And it suddenly hit him. The sheer force of it knocked air out of his lungs.

He remembered it all. The worry he was feeling when Astoria started having contractions, followed by the gruesome 20 hours of labour. He remembered the joy upon hearing his son's cry for the first time, the elation he felt as he kissed Astoria and hugged her close, encouraging her for a job well done. Everything seemed perfect at that time; he had his son and his wife - his own little family.

That perfect picture soon shattered as Astoria's body grew weaker until she fell unconscious. He remembered the anger he had for the healers because they could not make her better. Most importantly he remembered the anger, guilt and blame he placed on himself upon learning that Astoria might not make it. He remembered waiting by her bedside, holding her tiny hand in his, trying to contact her through their mental connection, hoping it would be enough to support her and help her get better.

For days he did not think about anything else other than her. His parents' attempts to make him eat or sleep were ignored. His son's cry for Astoria only made him feel worse as he knew that Scorpius might not have the chance to know his mother. He remembered their tearful goodbye in the physic plane. He remembered the heartbreak he felt as he saw Astoria's hand lie limp, her cold skin and her heart that wasn't beating any more. It was truly the worse thing he had ever experienced, even worse than the time Potter found him crying in Myrtle's bathroom, or the time Voldemort branded him as a Death Eater.

As he gathered his thoughts, he noticed his parents were still there, waiting for him to say something.

He looked down at his hand, and saw the wedding ring on finger. His eyes started to water as he remembered the day his wife put it there as he put a ring on hers.

"Astoria," he whispered softly. So softly that Lucius and Narcissa almost missed it.

Narcissa watched with teary eyes as her son struggled to hold back tears. Lucius gingerly stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, offering comfort and support. He looked at Draco with sad eyes. There was a hint of pity in there, but it was quickly gone before Draco could blink.

"I'm sorry, son," Lucius said as he squeezed his shoulder slightly.

Draco did not respond as he continued to look up, tears glistening on his eyes. Lucius slowly moved back.

"We'll give you a moment. Come, Narcissa." With that, Lucius helped Narcissa stand, and the two left without any more words.

When Draco heard the door click shut, he finally let go. Turning to his side, he slowly hugged his knees to his chest and finally cried. Crying for the loss of his wife, crying for the emptiness in his heart, crying for his soul that would never feel complete, crying for her family that lost a daughter and crying for his son who would never have the chance to know his mother.


End file.
